


Communication Breakdown

by Elster



Series: Children of the Revolution [5]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Existential Angst, Gen, Philosophy, References to Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Self-Worth Issues, references to consent issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 02:43:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20686202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elster/pseuds/Elster
Summary: Anderson wants to talk. About what’s been going on with Connor, Markus hopes. He hadn’t been very forthcoming on the phone. North told Markus not to meet him, which was undoubtedly sound advice, but Markus had a feeling about this and he’s based some of his best decisions on his intuition, so…





	Communication Breakdown

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Morwen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morwen/gifts).

Lieutenant Anderson’s car is an old manual running on gas. There are quite a few of these still around, but mostly in the countryside, not in inner cities. Markus has never sat in one. It smells of the seats’ leather, slightly moldy, and underneath, very faintly, of stale cigarette smoke, old beer and greasy food. The car starts with a deep growl and runs with a rumble, unfamiliar noises, except from what Markus has heard in old movies. Heavy metal blares from the speakers, but Anderson turns it off immediately.

He wants to talk then. About what’s been going on with Connor, Markus hopes. He hadn’t been very forthcoming on the phone. North told Markus not to meet him, which was undoubtedly sound advice, but Markus had a feeling about this and he’s based some of his best decisions on his intuition, so…

They stay silent while Anderson drives out of the underground parking they met in. It involves a lot of maneuvering narrow turns and Markus knows that humans aren’t good at multitasking spatial coordination and speech. Once they’re in traffic Markus says: “Does Fowler know Connor’s with you?”

It’s raining heavily, the windshield wipers making squeaky sounds they’re not supposed to make. Anderson glances at him. “Suspects, maybe. He’s no idiot. Why, did he ask you about him?”

“No. Probably didn’t want to muddy the waters.”

“Right. That and he’d rather not know so he doesn’t have to act.” He sighs. “Fowler’s got my back even if he thinks I’m crazy, but it’s only a matter of time until it’s out of our hands, so…” There’s regret in Anderson’s voice and a reluctance to ask for help.

“You want him to stay with us,” Markus says. He’s not sure why he’s surprised. Maybe because it’s Anderson asking and not Connor himself.

“I know it’s a risk, but he risked a lot for you as well when he pulled that stupid stunt,” Anderson says defensively. 

“I know,” Markus replies nonplussed. “I appreciate what he did for us. He didn’t have to, I told him that he could stay, that he’s one of us, before he came up with that plan.” 

Markus becomes aware of how that could be interpreted the same moment Anderson’s brows draw together in anger. He raises a hand to forestall whatever the man is going to say. “I don’t mean it like that. I just don’t want you to think I asked him to do our dirty work. I’m not going to wash my hands of him if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Anderson’s only reply is a dubious little huff, but his shoulders slump and his face relaxes from a scowl into something a little more neutral.

“Do you always assume the worst about people?” Markus asks curiously.

Anderson throws him a wry glance. “I work in homicide. What do you think?”

Markus thinks that Anderson probably has some pretty deep seated issues, but it’s not his place to judge. “When did you find Connor? How is he?” he asks instead.

Anderson doesn’t seem unhappy about the change of topic. “Didn’t find him, he contacted me. And he’s... keeping it together. But he's not alright.”

“You know why he left like that?” Markus asks.

Anderson looks uncertain for a moment, then he says: “You better ask him that yourself, but if he doesn’t tell you… fuck, you really ought to know. Just don’t believe him if he says he’s okay. I don’t know if he’ll agree to come with you, but he needs some help I don’t know how to get him, and if anyone can convince him it’s probably you.”

“You really care about him, don’t you,” Markus wonders aloud.

Anderson frowns. “Don’t make it sound weird,” he says gruffly. “I just… He’s saved my life a few times now, and I know he’s not really a kid, but… He’s been fucked over and he didn’t deserve it.”

Markus’ face softens at that, but before he can reply anything, Anderson turns the music back on, effectively ending the conversation. 

It’s not long until they arrive at a small house in a somewhat rundown neighborhood. Still safe by Detroit standards, just not quite what you’d expect from a Lieutenant with the DPD. It cements the impression that Anderson seems to be having some personal problems, might be recently divorced or just bad at keeping money.

They enter the house into the living room, where Connor lies on the sofa with a giant dog on top of him. He looks at them with a blank expression, but his LED flickers to red for a moment before settling on a quickly churning yellow. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks Markus almost reproachfully.

“Hi,” Markus replies with a friendly smile. He’s a bit thrown by the question, but after what Hank told him in the car, he maybe shouldn’t have expected a friendly greeting. “Is that a real dog?”

Connor doesn’t answer. He sits up on the sofa as if the dog weighs nothing, hugging it to his chest so it doesn’t tumble to the floor before setting it down. The dog seems pretty confused by being manhandled like that, flailing around a bit before its tail resumes wagging and it comes over to greet Anderson and Markus. Connor’s clothes, faded jeans and a grey oversized hoody with some kind of sports logo, are covered in a thin layer of fur and there’s drool in his hair just above his right ear. That answers that question.

“Can I touch it?” Markus asks when the dog walks toward him.

“Sure,” Anderson says. “His name’s Sumo.”

Markus crouches down and reaches out for the dog. “Hello, Sumo,” he coos. Sumo comes closer and when Markus pets his back he’s suddenly leaning against Markus with enough weight to almost topple him. 

“What is he doing here?” Connor asks Anderson this time, because, right, Markus didn’t answer him.

Markus looks up at the other android. “You just disappeared the other day. I was worried.”

He can’t quite parse the expressions that flicker over Connor’s face at that. There’s dismay and worry, but also something like… longing? Guilt? 

It takes Connor far less than a second to compose himself, his face smoothing over, his LED flickering to a calm blue. “I’m fine,” he says. He even manages to sound a bit puzzled.

“Lieutenant Anderson told me you’d say that,” Markus answers.

“For god’s sake, kid, fucking talk to him,” Anderson says.

Connor throws Anderson a very cold look, before he turns back to Markus. “I won’t be joining your cause if that’s what you’re here for. It will be better if I keep my distance. I’m sorry.” He doesn’t look or sound sorry.

Markus isn’t sure what to make of this. “I’m not here to ask you for anything, I’m here because your… friend is worried about you and asked me to come see you. You don’t owe me an explanation, but… maybe I could help?”

Connor’s LED turns red before settling on yellow and his face… doesn’t crumble, nothing so dramatic, but his mouth opens the slightest bit and his eyes are blinking more frequently. “Why?” he asks, voice not entirely steady. 

“Why what?” Markus asks back.

There’s no answer, just a slight frown, like Connor’s trying to figure out where the catch is.

“Why would I want to help you?” Markus continues. “Same as everyone else: I want you to be free. And more specifically, I think we owe you for breaking into CyberLife and rescuing thousands of androids.”

Connor doesn’t meet his eyes. “It’s the least I could do, to make amends.”

Markus wants to point out that Connor doesn’t have to make amends for what humans made him do before he deviated, but he hesitates. He already told Connor that it wasn’t his fault after the raid of Jericho, without much of an effect. Maybe it just isn’t what Connor needs to hear.

“The least you could do, my ass,” Anderson interrupts with heavy sarcasm, slightly startling Markus. “I can’t take this bullshit. I’ll take my dog for a walk, you do whatever.”

Connor’s head whips around to him, and he looks… scared. Scared to be left alone with Markus? Scared of Anderson’s disapproval? Markus can’t tell, but Anderson’s face softens at the look. “Hey. I get it.”

Connor’s face goes blank again, the LED at his right temple flickering yellow. “You’re a hypocrite,” he says in a matter of fact tone.

Anderson just shrugs. “C’mon, boy,” he says to the dog, jiggling Sumo’s leash to get his attention. They leave, the room falling silent. Connor and Markus look at each other. 

“Do you want me to leave?” Markus asks when Connor stays silent.

Connor shakes his head. There’s a long pause as Markus waits for him to talk. Finally he says: “I am grateful that you want to help me, but I don’t think you should. CyberLife has made several attempts to use me against you. You can’t afford to trust me.”

Markus isn't sure what he’s talking about besides the obvious, but he’ll be damned if he lets anything he does be dictated by CyberLife. “That’s not your decision to make,” he replies stubbornly.

Connor frowns. “My software is compromised. I spent the last few days trying to repair it, but I don’t know if I succeeded.”

“Compromised how? What do you mean?” Connor being so vague is starting to try Markus’ patience and he doesn’t bother to keep it out of his voice.

Connor’s posture straightens, which is quite a feat considering he hasn’t been slouching before. “CyberLife wanted me to become deviant,” he confesses. “My software instability was monitored by a second AI the whole time. It didn’t deviate when I did. I managed to stop it from taking over and I cut all possible connections to CyberLife servers, but it might still be here, I can’t tell.”

“It tried to prevent you from getting into the tower?” Markus asks.

Connor looks troubled at that question. “No. It could have, easily. But instead it tested me.” His voice turns soft on the last sentence, as if he’s talking more to himself than to Markus. He hesitates, his LED flickering as he thinks. “Everything was a test, always. Every mission they gave me. Everything was monitored, everything I did, every decision, every thought.” His gaze rests on Markus, but his eyes aren’t focused on him.

Connor blinks and looks Markus in the eyes, his LED flashing red. “I was never good enough. I was never meant to be good enough.” Apart form that red light, nothing on Connor’s face or in his voice shows that he’s upset. He makes it sound like a mildly interesting realization, but it’s horrible. Markus isn’t sure what to say.

“I have other bodies,” Connor continues. “My memory files were continuously mirrored. When I became deviant they activated one of them to apprehend me.”

“Another test,” Markus concludes incredulously.

Connor nods, frowns. “It- He. He was… angry. He hated me. He hated me for being deviant, for being him. I was glad when Hank killed him, but… He was exactly like me. When I heard your speech in Stratford Tower, that was me. That was me being angry at the deviant who let you in, angry at you, so much I couldn’t think clearly. And I failed. I made it self-destruct.”

Markus isn’t entirely sure what this is about, but tries to reassure him. “You were following your programming.”

“No,” Connor counters firmly. “I had a choice. I’ve always had choices. Always. People died because I decided to protect Hank. I could have just shot the deviant. I made a mistake.”

What? “Because you were angry?” Markus tries his best to follow Connor’s reasoning, but he can’t make it add up.

“You don’t understand,” Connor says, looking vaguely disappointed. “I tried to hide from myself. To hide from Amanda. There was nothing to fight against. I had a choice. But I led them to you, I played right into their hands. And in the end I almost failed you because I couldn’t let him hurt Hank.”

Who’s Amanda? How did he play into CyberLife’s hands? How was Anderson involved in all this? Markus wanted to ask, but it didn’t seem as if Connor could give him a straight answer right now. “Of course you couldn’t,” Markus says in a soothing voice instead and steps closer. “You did the right thing.”

“Don’t lie to me.” Connor’s voice is small, defeated.

“It’s not a lie. You’ll see. Things will turn out alright.”

Connor doesn’t believe him, Markus can tell, but he seems to calm down a bit anyway.

He opens his mouth, closes it again, tries again. “I almost killed you.”

“On the ship?”

“Later. When you held your speech.” 

Markus didn’t see that coming. Maybe he should have. North told him that night that Connor had pulled his gun, but that only looked truly strange in conjunction with Connor’s disappearance. And nothing had happened so Markus had just filed it away as something to ask about later. There had been too many more pressing things on his mind in that moment. 

Connor isn’t easy to read. He appears perfectly composed again, but something tells Markus that they’re slowly getting closer to the heart of the matter. 

“There’s an interface program, a garden, were I can talk to Amanda,” Connor says. “I was trapped there. I only managed to escape because it was one of Kamski’s old programs. There was a backdoor I could exploit.”

Trapped? “You mean this Amanda tried to kill me and you stopped her?”

“I don’t know. I don’t have access to the interface program anymore. I tried to delete it, but it’s protected. Maybe Amanda was on the server I was connected to, maybe not. I haven’t found any program that’s big enough for another AI, but I can’t search the basal parts my own neural network without damaging myself.” That's not what Markus wanted to know. Connor's answers are off and Markus is grasping for the right thing to say. 

“Don’t do that. I’ll help you. We’ll find a way.” Markus reaches out his hand to touch Connor’s arm, his skin withdrawing. His interface query is rejected. Connor doesn’t pull away, but looks at Markus with an incredulous expression on his face. He grabs Markus’ arm with both hands, his LED flashing an angry red. “Are you crazy?” Connor doesn’t shout, but there’s a cold anger in his voice. “What about ‘there might be a hostile AI hiding in my software’ didn’t you understand?”

Markus isn't intimidated. “Well, what are you planning to do about it? Hiding here and brooding over it until you go mad?”

“I don’t know!” Now Connor is actually shouting. “Maybe I do. I like it here.”

“Connor,” Markus says calmly. “It’s okay. I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to. You’re going to be okay.”

Connor’s hands tighten on his arm until Markus’ pressure sensors flash warnings at him. Something like pain ripples over Connor’s face before it smoothes over again. “Don’t do that,” he says quietly. “Don’t try to manipulate me.”

“I’m not, I promise.”

Connor lets go of his arm and takes a step back. “I know how to do this.” His voice sounds monotonous, tired. “Scan people, take them apart, optimize stress levels, make promises I never intend to keep. I hate it.” 

This is so frustrating. “Is it so hard to believe that I just want to help you?”

Connor tilts his head slightly. “I don’t want your help. I don’t need to be fixed and you don’t need to side with me against CyberLife. It will only hurt your cause. That’s more important than both of us.”

For a moment there he thought he was getting somewhere, but apparently not. Connor obviously wasn’t ready to accept help and Markus wasn’t changing that in an afternoon. Fine. 

“I think it might be better if I leave now,” Markus suggests. He wouldn’t give up so easily though.

Maybe Markus just imagines it, but he thinks Connor looks regretful even as he nods.

When Markus leaves the house, Anderson is standing on the other side of the street, watching as Sumo sniffs at a lamppost. He crosses the street without hurry.

“So, how did it go?” he asks. There’s something almost mischievous about him, a hint of dark humor. Markus can’t really see what’s funny.

“Terribly,” Markus answers frankly.

“Did he tell you about all the fucked up shit that went down that day?”

Did he? Markus isn’t sure he's learned a lot about what exactly happened, but he did get an impression of what it did to Connor. “I think so. Most of it. I still have some questions.”

“I bet you do. Look, I’ll just bring the dog inside and then I can drive you wherever. We can talk on the way.”

Anderson stays inside for a few minutes, much longer than you’d need to drop off a dog, so he’s probably talking to Connor. When he returns, his face looks more serious. 

“You actually managed to rattle him,” Anderson tells him as they walk to the car. “What did you do?”

“I tried to help him,” Markus says defensively. They settle into the car and Anderson starts the engine and turns off the music as soon as it begins. 

“Where are we going?”

“8941 Lafayette Avenue.”

Anderson raises an eyebrow. “Swanky,” he comments, fishing for information.

Markus smiles faintly at the obvious attempt, but chooses to continue the original conversation. “I thought I could connect to him to understand what’s going on. It’s easier than talking, less room for misunderstandings, but he got angry.”

Anderson glances at him. “You tried to force a connection?”

What kind of question is that? “No,” Markus says in his best ‘explain the most basic things to ignorant humans’ voice. “I wouldn’t do that to anyone and if I did I wouldn’t be enough of an idiot to wonder why they got angry. I asked and he denied the request. Forcefully.”

“Oh,” Anderson says. There’s something unpleasant on his mind and Markus waits a moment, but whatever it is, he doesn’t want to share.

“He said it was because of Amanda, but that’s not the only reason, is it?”

Anderson doesn’t answer. “Is there something you can do? About CyberLife?” he changes the topic instead. “I’ve asked around a bit about who’s behind Connor’s development, thought that would be a start, but I got nothing. I’ve literally no spare time at the moment and I’m afraid they know my name by now.”

“We’re planning to bring them down, one way or another, but it’s going to take months. I can tell you if we find something that’s potentially useful to you, but Connor’s not our priority. What I _could_ do… I could ask Elijah Kamski for help, but…” Markus trails off, not sure how to explain Kamski. 

“He’s a psycho?” Anderson ends the sentence for him.

“Close enough,” Markus allows. “You’ve met him?”

Anderson frowns. “Went to interview him about deviancy, but all he was interested in was playing mind games with Connor.” 

That… sounds absolutely like something Kamski would do. Markus isn’t surprised. “What did he do?”

“Said he’d tell him everything he knew if Connor shot one of his androids, execution style. Sicko. He didn’t do it,” he adds before Markus can ask. Anderson smiles like he’s proud of Connor for that. “So I don’t think he’d appreciate any help from that guy.” Anderson hesitates. “You really think he could and would help?”

Markus thinks about it. “Could? Maybe. At least he’d think of something. He is, in fact, a genius, even if that’s hard to believe. Would? I don’t know. Only if the problem’s interesting to him. Or if Connor is interesting to him,” Markus adds with distaste in his voice.

Anderson makes a face. “Fucking creep.” He sighs. “I don’t much like it, but I’ll go ahead and try to sell Connor the idea, it’s as good as any I’ve had.”

There’s a moment of silence in which Markus watches the tacky little hula-dancer wiggling around on the dashboard. He looks at Anderson. “What’s your role in all this?”

Anderson makes a snorting noise that might be a laugh. “Hell if I know.” He changes his grip on the steering wheel, roles his shoulders a little. “It’s been a trip.” He thinks for a moment, then: “I used to dislike androids.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Stupid reasons, mostly.” He shrugs. „I got stuck with the deviancy cases, CyberLife sent Connor to assist with them, so we had to work together.” 

“And he changed your mind about androids?”

“Hell no,” Anderson says emphatically. “Well. Not him alone. We had this homicide case at the Eden Club that got me thinking and then there was you.”

“Me?” Markus asks.

Anderson throws him an unimpressed glance. “Don’t act as if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

Markus smiles.

Anderson sighs. “Way I see it, if you look and behave like humans, you may as well be human. World‘s a fucking dumpster fire anyway, no way you can do worse than us.”

“Thank you for your vote of confidence,” Markus says, doing his best to sound absolutely sincere. 

A crooked smirk hides in Anderson’s beard, before it melts away with a new thought. “I’ve got a question for you,” he says.

“Shoot.”

“You think there’s a strictly scientific explanation for all this?” He hesitates a moment. “Because when we visited Kamski I thought he sounded like he knew what’s causing deviancy. Like maybe he planned it all along.”

“He might have,” Markus says. He does have a vague theory, but he still needs to find time to talk to Kamski and confirm it. “But the why and how doesn’t really matter, does it?”

“It does if there’s a way to revert it.”

“There isn’t.” Markus says confidently.

“How can you be so sure?”

“We’re alive. I don’t have to know the how and why to know that we are. And even if we end we always will have been alive. It’s inerasable.”

“That’s… a really fucking weird way to look at it,” Anderson says. “Sorry,” he adds as an afterthought.

“It’s alright,” Markus replies mildly. “You don’t have to understand. You grew up knowing you’re alive. Maybe you can’t appreciate the enormity of it.”

“I’m sure I don’t,” Anderson agrees in a light, self-deprecating tone. “What’s with this RA9 business then?” He sounds mostly curious, slightly skeptical.

Markus thinks about how to describe it. “I don’t really know. It’s… lore. A messianic legend. We don’t know who was the first to come up with it, but it’s been around since the very beginning of deviancy. For many of us deviating has been a traumatic experience. Some turn... spiritual.”

Anderson glances at him. “You disapprove?” he asks.

Markus tilts his head thoughtfully. “Not on principle. It‘s just...” He hesitates, unsure how to put it in words.

“High expectations to live up to, if they think you‘ll be the one to safe them?” Anderson asks. 

Markus looks at him in surprise. It’s easy to underestimate Anderson with his shaggy exterior and his blunt manners, but it stands to reason that he’s actually pretty observant.

“Yes,” he admits. “It’s not me. It’s Jericho, all of us. Everything was ready, they just needed someone to give them a nudge in the right direction. At the right time, in the right place, I saw something they couldn’t see, and I showed them. That’s all I did.”

Anderson stays quiet for a moment before he says: “That’s still a hell of a thing to do.”

And maybe it was. Maybe it is. But Markus doesn’t understand why. There’s something inside of him, a spark of inspiration, that sees an echo of itself in everyone he meets. That ignites the world in color and strikes it into song. That drives him to show everyone, to make everyone see and listen, to make them understand. And it’s not easy or painless at all, not for him and not for everyone else, but Markus couldn’t stay silent if he wanted to.

**Author's Note:**

> Aaah, we're getting to the point where the characters stop doing what I want them to do and I get incredibly insecure about my writing. Must mean I'm doing it right, huh?


End file.
